My Night with Sam Winchester
by Mali Bear's Buddy
Summary: 1st person POV. Straight fantasy. You could be the leading lady! High T to soft M for language and adult situations. Formerly titled "More Dimples", now a one-shot-series!
1. More Dimples

**A/N:** This was a delicious little romp. I'm enjoying playing with Sam...and slightly giddy over my pal Lisa telling me I might come close to making her a Sam!Girl.

And now I'm giggling. _Let's Get It On _just started playing... It must be a sign.

Many thanks to **stephaniew** for friendship, betaing and encouragement.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural_...but, like the rest of you, I'd love to get Sam (or Dean) in my bed!

More Dimples

I swear I think we both passed out. Yes, ladies. He _is_ that good in bed. The best part? I'm not sure he realizes it. Which, in my book, is sexy as hell.

I try to remain quiet as I roll over. Sam is sprawled over the left side of my bed. He's laying on his belly, the long curve of his back completely naked to my view. His skin is a lightly sun-kissed copper and I can't resist trailing my fingertips over it.

I suck in a breath. Good lord, you have got to be kidding me. There, in the dip just above the sheet covering the globes of his perfectly sculpted ass, another set of adorable dimples. The kind that make you blush. Ones that make you want to slip closer. So I do. I lean in nice and close. My lips feather over his shoulder blade as my thumb strokes over one of them.

The soft touch causes him to awaken. He rolls over to look at me, eyes shining as a satisfied smile plays over his handsome features. Without saying a word, he brushes a strand of hair off of my face and leans down to kiss me.

His mouth is warm and wet. His tongue flirts with mine in a playful caress as his thumb strums over my nipple and he settles over me. You'd think the weight of someone that tall and muscular - holy crap is he muscular! - would be oppressive. But it isn't. It makes me feel safe.

My hands coast up the planes of his chest. They glide over his shoulders and upper back. A tiny gasp escapes, my lips parting as he dips his low in an intimate caress. "Sam..."

I feel him smile against my throat. It doesn't take much for him to work me up again. I'm not sure I ever unwound in the first place. Touching me seems to make him happy. It also turns him on.

"Please..." I murmur, feeling the hot, hard length of him pressing against my thigh.

"Please what?" he asks, a teasing stroke setting every last nerve ending in my body on fire.

"Take me..." I breathe, arching into him.

He smirks, sucking his fingers into his mouth slowly before claiming mine again. I cling to him as he enters my body. Feel my toes curl as he thrusts shallowly, then deep.

Jesus, he feels good. Every. Last. Inch. From the tip of his nose as it brushes mine to the way the hair on his legs tickles my skin to...well...you know.

You know what they say about big men? It isn't just that they wear big shoes.

My body tightens and my eyes slam shut. A delicious tingle attacks my toes and wiggles its way up my calves. I loop a leg around his waist, covering one set of dimples only to look into the ones playing on his cheeks. It breaks me. Makes me shatter. Because nothing - and I do mean nothing - is more beautiful than his smile.

Except for maybe the dimples that surround it..


	2. In the Club

**A/N:** Happy Birthday, Sam Winchester...and surprise, readers!

Many thanks to** mmmsizzle**, who reviewed suggesting I do more of these fun, little snips. Interestingly, I had decided to turn them into series a few days before, but I haven't had the time until now. I'll be doing the same thing for Dean, so if you're interested in that one please be sure to put _The Rest of Mr Mouth_ on alert!

**The 411:** One-Shot-Series from first person POV with each entry being 500-1000 words. Have a suggestion or request? Review or send me a PM! The more we come up with, the more often updates will be and the longer the series will last!

**Warning: **This is a VERY high T, bordering on M rating.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Supernatural._

In the Club

I don't even know his name. He's tall and impossibly good looking. Shaggy hair, gorgeous eyes. He came in with some older bald man and a couple others his age. There's enough of a resemblance, I'd say a few of them are probably related.

Wrapped up in staring, I'm on the dance floor when it happens. My neighbor, Harry, decides to get handsy. I push him off. It's a big scene. One that instantly makes me regret coming here.

Until _he_ comes over and asks if I'm okay. Says he can't stand the noise. Harry shrinks back into his beer bottle and I'm glued to the stranger's face.

We dance. The music is sexy and throbbing. Our bodies rub together and I can feel his arousal. Hear him breathing. The alcohol in my system makes me bold and I grab his hand, dragging him behind me toward the neon sign.

His lips are on mine and he's hauling me into his arms the second we hit the door. He slams me against the solid wood panel without apology or explanation. We both know what we're here for...and it's not pretty words or tenderness.

One of my red, patent leather stilettos hits the floor and a moan overtakes the laugh that was forming. My sister's choice of shoes are as advertised - _Fuck me. Now._ Apparently against the bathroom door and, lemme tell you, he's on it.

He pushes my skirt up. Big hands slide up the length of my thighs as he grinds against me, his breath is hot on my ear. "Hope these aren't your favorite..."

Favorite? _Wait... What?_

Oh. My. God.

Long, thick fingers slip beneath the lacy edge of my panties. My head swims as one of the digits dances along my slit headed for my... Suddenly the touch is gone and I know exactly what he meant as he drops the ruined fabric to the floor with a smoldering look.

Dimples dig into his cheeks just before he ravages my mouth again. His hands are back, fingers moving with the age old rhythm of our bodies as we dry hump against the door. I vaguely register the soft _snick_ of his zipper, but mostly just feel. Everything.

Wasting no more time on foreplay, he enters me roughly. It's hot and hard and it makes me gasp. He strains, jaw tightening at his control. I make desperate attempt to memorize every second, hoping like hell it'll be more than just a dull ache in the morning.

I soon find his fingers aren't the only part of him that's long and thick. I bite my lip to hold back a scream, but he pries the pillow loose from my teeth with his thumb. He tugs at my hair to angle my mouth before filling it with his tongue.

It's all too much and not enough. Over too quickly. But not before my body molds to his in a vise-like grip. Holy...

Then I'm alone. He barely stayed long enough to close his pants. I sway in front of the mirror, quickly putting on my lost shoe and trying to clean myself up.

My skin is clammy and I know I look flushed. I watch him walk back to his table as though nothing happened while I move to my own, joining my sister. I snag my purse, my legs wobbling as I drop into my seat.

"Are you alright, Em?" she asks once I'm settled. "You look a little..."

I swat her hand away from my forehead, murmuring, "I'm fine."

But I swear, I don't think I'll be able to walk right for a week..


End file.
